When You See It
by RhonnieSimpson
Summary: George starts to see Hermione in a new light, but will she do the same? Set during Goblet of Fire but will extend up until and possibly after the war. This is my first fic so don't worry about being nice but please read and review, constructive criticism is appreciated. (Officially off hiatus, look for much more regular updates).
1. Chapter 1

**I am obviously not JK Rowling. **

**But in other news, this is my first fic and I'm actually kind of nervous about it. Please read and let me know what you think. **

**Enjoy!**

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"This is it," whispered Fred, giving the final warning as he moved to push open the doors, "no turning back now."

George took a deep breath. Nerves were not something he was familiar with, but he sure as hell felt them now. He knew the stakes. With Bagman refusing to pay them their winnings from the World Cup, the boys were racing to gain the money needed to fund their business. If they didn't get the cash, and get it soon, all those months of work would be sent spiraling straight down the tube. Entry in the Triwizard Tournament was a last ditch effort and if it failed they were back to square one.

"_Get it together,"_ he chided, catching himself, "_if anyone can pull this off it's the two of you." _With one final shake of his head to lose the tendrils of doubt that were beginning to take root, he squared his shoulders, pasted on a wide grin and moved quickly to follow his twin inside.

"Well lads, we've done it," called Fred to the mass of students gathered in the hall.

"Cooked it up just this morning," chimed George, winking at the audience with much more confidence than he truly felt.

His trepidation vanished immediately, however, with the reaction of the crowd. Their cheers and rising excitement brought out the side of him that would always rise to a challenge, costs be damned. That's what he loved the most about the pranks and gags pulled throughout the years. That rush of adrenaline, the feeling of no consequences…at least until they got caught. He felt his spirits rising with the noise level.

Amid the din in the hall, one clear voice stood from the rest. "It's not going to wo-ork" came the mocking, sing-song tone of Hermione Granger. With a quick glance it was decided that the twins would hold off their plan momentarily, if only to irritate the younger witch. Hermione was one of their favorite opponents for, in addition to holding a spot in the Weasley family, which in itself granted her an additional serving of pranking and ridicule, she held an intelligence level up to par with their own. Abruptly the twins changed course, moving in unison to swoop down to her level, flanking her on either side.

"Oh yeah?" questioned Fred.

"And why's that Granger?" continued George, noticing for the first time the light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of Hermione's nose. "_What a strange thing to be thinking about at a time like this_" he thought to himself, still transfixed on those tiny little specks of gold. "_Wait!" _he thought, mentally shaking himself out of his momentary stupor, "_She was mocking us. That's why I'm over here in the first place!" _He came to mid argument, catching only part of what had been said.

"…couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion," she finished.

"Ah, but that's why it's so brilliant!" shot Fred, clearly not noticing his twin's lapse in concentration.

"Because it's so pathetically _dim_-witted!" added George, hoping to Merlin that his reply made sense within the banter. Fred chuckled. He was safe, at least for the time being.

Standing quickly, needing to put some distance between himself and Granger before he did something dumb, George decided it was time to put the plan into action.

"Ready Fred?" he asked.

"Ready George," came the reply.

Their united, "Bottoms up!" rang out within the hall. Interlocking arms, the twins downed their individual potions, and, as one, hopped across the age line.

For a split second there was nothing. Then, all at once, they were nearly deafened by the cheers. "_We've done it,"_ thought George, "_We've actually done it!" _He and Fred made their celebratory rounds with grins and high-fives, accepting their much due praise. Every face in the crowd was sporting a smile, every face but one. Granger. Why should her skepticism bother him? He'd never cared what she thought before now. And yet, for some reason, the fact that the younger witch didn't approve of his actions was causing a bit of a niggling itch in the back of his mind.

Deciding they had wasted enough time already, George moved in towards the goblet. Fred caught on quickly and together they tossed their names into the flame. Again cheers echoed in the hall but this time it seemed the celebration had come too soon. Tongues of blue flame leapt from the cup, knocking the twins flying out of the ring and skidding across the floor. Sitting up, they gazed at each other in horror as large white beards began to sprout from their jaws.

"YOU SAID!"

"NO, YOU SAID!"

Anger. Despair. Doubt. Emotions wrecking havoc within George's mind, and apparently Fred's as well. The two broke out in a fist fight rolling around on the floor, pushing the blame on the other. Their fight instead of their triumph became the center of attention within the hall until, over the cries coming from the tangle of limbs on the ground, there was the sound of a creaking door opening.

Looking up from where he lay sprawled across the floor, George was the first to see the group of Durmstrang students led in by Viktor Krum. All noise stopped. No one moved as one by one the Bulgarians dropped their names into the goblet. From his vantage point on the ground, George saw Krum make eye contact with Hermione before turning on his heel and exiting with a slight swirl of his maroon cape. George, for the life of him, could not determine why the slight blush that tinted Hermione's cheeks as she glanced back down at the thick book in her lap caused a slight twinge in his chest. Perhaps he was feeling protective. She had been his brother's best friend for the past 3 years and she had stayed with them during the World Cup.

"_That must be it,_" he thought, "_I think of her like I would Ginny. If some hulking Bulgarian looked at my sister that way I would definitely have something to say on the subject._" Except, those freckles he noticed earlier were really nothing at all like the orange spots on Ginny's face and his throat was tightening in a way that it never had when he felt the call to adapt into over protective older brother mode. But as soon as his thoughts began to move down this strange path, he found himself ripped back to reality by the arrival of Professor McGonagall and, due to the loss in concentration as the twins found themselves being dragged across the castle by their ears, George forgot about his strange thoughts on facial pigmentation, at least the time being.

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**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Please review and let me know what you think/if I should continue writing this fic. Much love - Stella


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione slid breathlessly into the seat between Harry and Ron. A box of of brightly colored pins rattled loudly as she dropped it jerkily on the table in front of her. From his spot across the table, George observed absently that her face was flushed from exertion or excitement, or perhaps a mixture of the two. He couldn't help but notice how alive she looked with that faint blush of pink coloring her caramel toned skin, making the adorable sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks stand out even more than usual. Her molten chocolate eyes sparkled in the same way they did when she was telling him and Fred off for one of their various _alleged_ misdoings.

He could see her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her jumper with each breath she took, her mocha curls even more tousled than usual from her rushed trek across the castle. Her piercing gaze met his for a moment and she smiled slightly in recognition before turning back to her friends. A rush of warmth flooded into George's chest and the corners of his mouth began to turn up of their own volition.

George was suddenly jostled out of his reverie by the arrival of Fred who leaped over the bench, shaking the entire table as he slammed into the open seat to George's right.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred, in greeting, not even turning to look at his twin or the trio of younger students across from them.

"So do I!" Hermione responded, smirking at the glazed, dreamy look in Fred's eyes as he stared at the beautiful girl laughing with her friends a bit further up the table from them. George simply rolled his eyes at the obvious infatuation his brother was illustrating for all the world to see.

"_As if I would _ever _be that obvious about liking a girl! He has completely lost his marbles over that girl," _thought George, who was truly getting a little tired of Angelina being the only topic Fred ever wanted to discuss.

When he refocused on the table, he realized that Hermione was looking at him and doing her best to keep from laughing outright, her fist pushing against her mouth with her elbow on the table. George wiggled both eyebrows at her, causing her to snort in a way that he most definitely should not have found to be cute in any way.

The rest of the feast passed relatively uneventfully, Harry and Ron at one point retelling their encounter with Hagrid and his excessive cologne usage, while Hermione looked on, shaking her head ruefully at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Silence fell almost instantly as the food vanished from the tables, each and every student waiting in anticipation to see what names the flaming goblet would spit out. Dumbledore stood and made his way toward the goblet saying, "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute."

George noted amusedly that Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head for a moment at the headmaster's ridiculous estimation. "Now, when the champions' names are called," he continued, "I would ask them please to come up to the top of the hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions."

I headmaster then extinguished nearly all the lights in the hall, leaving the Goblet of Fire shining more brightly than anything else, its blueish-white flames leaping and dancing across its brim, too bright to look at for any large length of time. You could hear a pin drop. Tensions were running high.

"Any second," Lee whispered loudly into George's ear, startling him so badly he nearly fell out of his seat. A covert glance at Hermione revealed she missed the whole incident. George let out a tiny sigh of relief, before turning his eyes back to the blinding goblet.

Suddenly, the flames turned blood red and began to spark violently. A tongue of fire shot into the air, leaving a charred piece of parchment fluttering in its wake. Dumbledore snatched the parchment from the air and, reading by the now blue tinted light from the goblet announced, "The champion for Durmstrang, will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron in full support of his idol, struggling to be heard over the waves of applause and cheering booming throughout the hall. George felt a slight twinge of nausea when he saw a wide smile gracing Hermione's face, reaching all the way to her eyes, as she clapped her hands rapidly in support of the Bulgarian hulk who was lurching awkwardly toward the head table.

Silence fell once again as the flames darkened to scarlet, signaling the selection of the second contestant. Grabbing the scorched parchment from the air, Dumbledore called, "The champion for Beauxbatons, is Fleur Delacour!"

While the two boys next to her focused on the ethereal blonde gracefully ascending the stairs to reach the champions' assigned room, Hermione found her gaze drawn to the Beauxbaton students left at the table. The French students seemed utterly distraught, several girls dissolving into tears right there at the Ravenclaw table. "Look," she commented to Harry on her right, "they're all disappointed."

Hermione found herself wondering if there had been some sort of reward offered for the student selected, something beyond merely the ability to compete. Or worse, perhaps there was an academic detriment for not being chosen. "_Not a whole lot of school unity going on at Beauxbatons it would seem,_" she thought absently to herself.

When the goblet turned red a third time Hermione felt herself stop breathing entirely, literally holding her breath in anticipation.

"The Hogwarts champion," announced Dumbledore with his eyes twinkling merrily, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Hermione laughed, grinning widely as every single Hufflepuff leapt to their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs in support of Cedric. Cedric, looking equal parts trilled, terrified, and embarrassed, made his way to the front of the hall.

"_Good," _she thought to herself, "_Hufflepuff deserves to win something for once. Utterly ridiculous that Slytherin and Gryffindor seem to always be neck in neck for everything. And having a champion from a neutral house will go a long way to promoting inter-house unity. For the duration of the tournament at least…_"

Hermione was still lost in her thoughts, completely ignoring whatever goodwill speech Dumbledore was making when the goblet turned a brilliant red for a fourth time.

"_Bollocks,_" thought Hermione, as a wave of dread swept through her body. Experience told her, as much as she would love to ignore it, that when something strange and potentially life-threatening occurred, it always involved Harry. She turned to the dark haired boy next to her who, looking just as confused as everyone else, had obviously not yet reached the same conclusion she had.

Beginning to feel panic well up from deep inside her gut, Hermione began to shift her gaze toward Ron on her other side, in a desperate hope that he might share her growing apprehension, only to match eyes with George sitting opposite her before she made the full turn.

George did not know what about the goblet changing colors a fourth time had made Hermione's chocolate colored eyes widen so dramatically, but he recognized the terror on her face and felt himself begin to share in her dread. In unison they turned to face the head table just in time to hear Dumbledore clear his throat and say with an apparent lack of emotion, "Harry Potter."

AN: Thank you so much for reading this piece, especially those who of you who were he back in my junior year of high school when I started the story. Senior year and freshman year of college took a lot out of me and I am just now finally getting back into writing in general. Like I said in the bio, please always comment, good or bad, I need the feedback and if you have any plot suggestions or cute George/Hermione moments you would like to see incorporated, please let me know. Until next time (after I finish my 3 papers I have assigned). - Rhonnie


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